


an intro is all that I need

by coffeewordangel



Series: tumblr drabbles [14]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, M/M, balcony creeping, hookup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 04:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15833643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeewordangel/pseuds/coffeewordangel
Summary: Maybe Liam shouldn't be hanging out on his balcony in his pants, pretending to take a phone call.





	an intro is all that I need

**Author's Note:**

> Over on tumblr somewhereisaplacethatziamknow posted a photo and then knoorhan commented that it looked like Liam was watching Zayn from his balcony. And then this happened.

Maybe Liam shouldn’t be hanging out on his balcony in his pants, pretending to take a phone call. What he’s really doing is hoping that the hot guy he’s been watching like a creeper for the last few days looks up and appreciates Liam’s assets. Which is utterly insane, but there’s no one around to judge him on it. He can’t exactly go down and knock on the front door of the villa or anything.

In between shooting his new video and doing social media promo for it, Liam has all but camped out on his balcony and has the sunburn to prove it. The dude in the private courtyard below has been wandering around shirtless for three days now, with his tattoos and his tight little body and his grandpa shorts and Liam’s libido has taken notice.

There’s something familiar about him, something in the dark wave of his hair and the angle of his jaw that tweaks the back of Liam’s brain. Liam hasn’t spent much time trying to figure it out. Mostly he’s been wondering if his cock is as pretty as the rest of him and whether or not he has a pert little ass hidden in those god-awful baggy shorts.

Liam times his next drag with that of the man below. It makes him feel kind of stalkery and when the man falls asleep on the lounge chair, Liam heads inside. He’s not going to hang out and watch some stranger sleep. He’s drawing a line. No matter how adorable he looks with his hands folded over his chest, long tattooed fingers delicate and relaxed. Liam wants to suck on them. 

The next few hours are spent messing around online and accomplishing nothing. Liam reasons it’s justified because he’s almost on holiday. The workload has been light and the free time kind of excessive. A knock on the door drags him from the internet rabbit hole he’s fallen down. No one other than the staff knows he’s here and he wonders why they’re knocking. They’ve already collected his dishes from dinner.

Liam opens the door and the sudden realization of why the man in the courtyard seemed familiar hits him like a punch in the face. “Oh fuck,” he breathes. “You’re Zayn Malik.”

Zayn tilts his head attractively and purses his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. “Last I checked, yeah.”

“You’ve been staying next door,” Liam states rather obviously. He’s been lusting after a fucking star. More than that, someone whose talent he genuinely admires.

“And you’ve been staring,” Zayn drawls with a smirk. He lets Liam stew in his panic for a long moment before pushing his way in and shutting the door behind him. “I don’t mind.”

“What.” Liam blinks a few times, unsure if this is really happening. 

Zayn laughs and it’s painfully gorgeous. His eyes are fucking _sparkling_. “Have I got the wrong end of the stick?” Zayn asks, amused.

It’s obvious he knows he hasn’t. Liam is practically tongue-tied in the face of utter perfection. He’s seen photos, of course, but they hardly do that face justice. It’s difficult to assemble a response when he’s contemplating what the stubble along Zayn’s jaw would feel like against his tongue.

“No. Not wrong,” Liam manages. 

Zayn draws closer until Liam can feel the heat of his skin. “Good. I’ve been watching you too,” Zayn confesses. “But I figured that was probably your intention.” He casts a meaningful glance at Liam’s lack of dress.

“I never saw you look up,” Liam replies.

“That’s because I can be discreet,” Zayn teases. “While you, Leeyum, seem very thirsty.”

“Yeah,” Liam says in a cracked voice. “You could say that.”

There’s something about the way Zayn draws out his name that has him a little weak in the knees. Maybe it’s that Zayn knows his name. Or maybe it’s that Liam kind of wants to spend the rest of ever listening to Zayn pronounce things. His voice is just as sexy as the rest of him. It’s hardly fair.

Zayn’s expression slips seamlessly from amused to smouldering, knocking the breath from Liam’s chest. He closes the distance to press his full lips to Liam’s, languorously sucking at Liam’s bottom lip and dipping his tongue into his mouth like he’s tasting him. Liam can’t help the moan that gathers low in his throat or how needy he sounds. 

He reaches up to thread his fingers through Zayn’s dark hair, which is just as soft and silky as it looks. Liam takes control of the kiss, sliding a thigh between Zayn’s spread legs and pressing a palm flat against the small of his back to pull him closer. Zayn melts against him beautifully. He tastes sweet and a bit minty and smells of salt and sea.

“You are so hot,” Liam mumbles between kisses.

“You need to stop posing half-naked everywhere, you thirst trap.” Zayn slides his mouth down to nibble at the junction of Liam’s neck and shoulder. “Can’t go anywhere without seeing those abs all over the place.”

Liam tips his head back to give him better access. “You disapprove?” he asks breathily.

Zayn sucks hard and Liam can tell it will bruise. Liam will probably catch hell for that later. He can’t bring himself to give a fuck.

“It’s distracting,” Zayn mutters. “Almost asked someone for your number but I wasn’t sure.”

Liam pulls away slightly so he can see Zayn’s face. “You thought anything about that contracted farce was realistic?”

“I don’t know you,” Zayn points out. “You could be that guy.”

“I’m not,” Liam says darkly. He reminds himself it’s almost over. Just a little ways to go and he can dump the weight he’s had to carry from his previous contract.

Zayn smooths his palms down Liam’s sides soothingly, thumbs dipping into the hollow of his hips. He drags them under the waistband of Liam’s Calvins, following the v-line down and back up. Liam shivers, wanting more, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide exactly how much.

“Sorry.” Zayn sucks another hickey over the birthmark at the base of Liam’s neck. “I don’t know who I have to thank for you being here at the same time as me, but it took half a second watching you to realize we’re in the same boat.”

Liam is mostly mollified. “And you decided to do something about it?”

“Mmhmm,” Zayn agrees. “Unless you wanted to talk about it some more.” 

“I’m good,” Liam replies with a laugh.

“Good.” 

Zayn pushes Liam back toward the bed next to the giant window facing the ocean. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing feels like it’s timed with the ebb and flow of arousal as Zayn works Liam up before pulling away and moving on to a less sensitive patch of skin. From the smug smile, Liam deduces he knows exactly how much of a tease he is.

It occurs to Liam somewhere between Zayn sucking at the tip of his cock through his boxer briefs and moving back up to lick his abs, that he has weight and muscle on Zayn and can probably move this along. So he does. The shocked shout Zayn emits when he’s flipped off Liam and onto his stomach is just a delightful bonus.

“Alright?” Liam asks, grinning and hovering on all fours over him.

“Shut up,” Zayn moans, shoving his ass back.

He’s still wearing those stupid shorts and Liam wants to rip them off him and burn them for being in the way. Unfortunately there’s a belt to contend with, but between Zayn and Liam working together they manage to wrest them off Zayn’s lean body. He’s sleek lines and golden skin and Liam’s mouth waters.

Liam starts with the fantail tattoo at the nape of Zayn’s neck, licking over it before dragging his teeth down the raised curve of Zayn’s spine. He lavishes attention on each of Zayn’s tattoos he can see, paying special attention to the small of his back. Liam’s tempted to flip him over and work on the front tattoos as well, but Zayn is writhing under him and it’s a convincing argument to get on with it. 

It only takes a moment to cross the room to grab lube and a condom, get naked and return to the bed, but it’s a moment longer than Liam wants to spend not touching Zayn’s skin. It’s addictive. _He’s_ addictive. 

Zayn’s elegant fingers clench at the bedding as Liam preps him slow and thorough. There’s a part of Liam’s brain, the part that’s not stunned into silent awe by how gorgeous and responsive Zayn is under him, that wonders if this is even actually happening. It seems entirely possible that he’s asleep at the desk and this is an elaborate fantasy he’s dreamed up.

“Enough,” Zayn rasps. “That’s enough. Fuck me.”

Liam’s hands tremble slightly as he rolls the condom on. He feels fumbling and inexperienced suddenly, in a way he hasn’t since he was a clueless teenager. It’s not a sensation he’s particularly enjoying, to be perfectly honest. 

He goes slowly, terrified of fucking this up. Zayn huffs in irritation and shoves back to take him in all at once. Liam’s vision goes blurry. All he can do is rest his hands on Zayn’s hips and moan as Zayn works himself on Liam’s dick. It’s brain meltingly hot the way Zayn takes control, using Liam for his own pleasure. 

“C’mon, Leeyum,” Zayn slurs around a moan. “Touch me. M’almost there.”

Liam realizes with a jolt that he hasn’t touched Zayn’s dick even once during this encounter, which seems a gross oversight. One he rectifies immediately. The sound that escapes Zayn’s plush, bite-swollen lips is immensely gratifying. His steady rhythm falters and Liam takes over, tipping forward to blanket Zayn and sink his teeth into the nape of his neck, chasing the orgasm that spirals closer with every thrust.

When it’s over, when they’re both panting and sticky and fucked out, Liam wishes he could rewind time. This is probably a one time thing and that leaves him feeling hollowed out inside. They don’t even know each other, but he wants to know Zayn. He wants to know every thought that crosses that clever brain, wants to make Zayn share his soft, husky laugh with him, wants a lot of everything.

Zayn rolls over onto his back and grins up at Liam. “I needed that. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome?” Liam isn’t entirely sure how to respond. “Or. Thank you?”

Zayn laughs at him. “Yeah.” He eyes Liam’s tattoos curiously, reaching out to touch his lion rampant. “Gryffindor?”

“It’s a family crest,” Liam says quickly. He realizes he’s being stupid. “But yeah. Also because Gryffindor. I’m a bit of a nerd.”

Zayn’s lips twitch in amusement. “Sure.”

Liam gets distracted by the shift of Zayn’s skin over his sleek muscles until he realizes he’s being shown a tattoo. There wasn’t time to catalog all of them like he wanted to and he’d overlooked the Zayn’s legs in favor of his torso. There are a lot.

“I. Is that Voldemort?” Liam looks closer. “And...Lord Frieza? Oh my god you win. That’s probably the nerdiest tattoo I’ve ever seen.”

“What do I win?” Zayn asks, laughing bright and happy.

Liam grins back at him. “What do you want?”

Zayn props himself up on his elbow and slides a hand across Liam’s abs. “What I want is your number. And a nap. And another go when we wake up.”

Liam’s breath hitches. “All yours,” he replies. “Anything.”

He hopes that sounded more flippant than he feels. There’s not a lot about his life that allows for a normal, real relationship but he thinks he’d like to try it. Zayn is special and Liam wants to learn him inside and out. 

“Good. We start with a nap,” Zayn says decisively, tugging Liam into a cuddle.

Liam buries his nose in Zayn’s hair and lets himself feel hopeful.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, as far as I can tell every single hint of the original post on Tumblr has been wiped from existence. Which should not be possible. If you still have it hmu. Also come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/empty-altars).


End file.
